


New Eyes

by figgish



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-05-19
Packaged: 2018-01-25 19:12:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1659305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/figgish/pseuds/figgish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by this post by my friend Marty: "you know aph sweden wears glasses? what if he had bad eyesight for so many years so he couldnt make out faces properly and he finally gets glasses and sees finland for the first time clearly and instantly falls in love"</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Eyes

The steady thwack, thwack, thwack of the hammer resounded through the woodshop as Berwald nailed together a thick, mahogany table. Light filtered in through the window, leaving dust swimming in the golden light.

The table swam in front of Berwald's eyes, blurry and indefinite, but his motions were habitual—he didn't need his eyes. He hit the nail on the head which each swing, then moved on to the next, making his way around the table methodically.

Berwald stepped back, placing the hammer on the desk to right and inhaling deeply. He brought a hand to his brow and wiped off the sweat, enjoying the cedar-smelling dusty air. It was so calm in his wood shop; he could lock himself up in here for hours, thinking and working, tucking himself away from the rest of the world.

He leaned his hip on the workbench, looking at the table before him. He squinted, trying to force it into view, but he was confident it was flawless. Woodworking was the one area in which Berwald would deign to consider himself proficient.

Letting out a breath, Berwald looked over his shoulder at the window, wondering if he'd have enough time sand and polish the table before Tino had dinner ready. After turning this over in his mind, he came to the conclusion that he would have the time to at least sand it, and after grabbing the sandpaper, he bent down on his knees to resume working.

When the knock at the door came, Berwald was halfway finished with sanding. He raised his head, turning his gaze towards the noise and squinting.

“Tino?” He asked, unable to make out the figure against the white door frame. 

“Mr. Sweden,” Tino answered in confirmation, padding his way over to where Berwald was working. “Mr. Sweden, look!”

Berwald stood up, grunting a bit. Berwald, he corrected him silently. Call me Berwald. They had been living together for centuries, there was no need for formalities.

“Mm?” He mused quizzically, trying to put Tino into focus as he approached.

“Spectacles!” Tino exclaimed cheerfully, holding out an odd bit of metal to Berwald.

“What?” Berwald asked, taking the small bits of wire and inspecting them.

“To help you see,” Tino explained. “You know how you can't read, and how you have trouble seeing things even five feet away?” He gave Berwald a nudge. “I'm tired of you dropping everything and tripping over your own feet.”

Berwald held the glasses up, squinting furiously at them. They sounded like some sort of miracle to Berwald, which was why he didn't trust them. He looked over at Tino.

“Are ya sure?” He pressed, sharp blue eyes full of doubt.

Tino sighed, and reached forward to grab the glasses out of Berwald's hand.

“Yes,” He assured his tall companion, rolling his eyes a bit. He took another step towards Berwald, getting up on his tiptoes and trying to set the glasses on his ears. When this became a larger production than he had hoped, he gave up with a sigh. “Bend down a bit.”

Berwald complied, getting back down on his knees so Tino could set the glasses on his head.

“Better,” Tino observed, smiling down at Tino. Berwald looked up at him expectantly and tried to focus on the whites of his teeth. Then, Tino went to place the glasses on his head, and he shut his eyes reflexively. When they flickered back open after a moment, he was surprised that he could make out the individual fabrics of Tino's tunic. He shot his head left and right, drinking everything in. It was all so clear, as if he were seeing in a different dimension. He looked at table, and saw that it really was flawless. Then he turned to look back at Tino and –

Everything paused, and Berwald whole body froze. He could see Tino clearly now—his soft eyes, a shade lighter and thrice as radiant as he imagined, the freckles he didn't know he had—and he was gorgeous. Berwald had always been fond of Tino. Berwald fuond his quiet but sturdy presence comforting, and they had been close companions for as long as he could remember. But he had never been in love with him before.

Tino tilted his head a bit, knitting his brow. “How are they?”

Berwald shook himself out of state of wonder. He stood up, not taking his eyes off of Tino.

“Good,” he answered awkwardly, staring at Tino's lips. They looked softer than he had imagined.

Tino laughed, reaching over to touch Berwald's arm. Berwald thought he was going to die.

“You can see now!” He quipped. “How do I look?”

Berwald's eyes widened, and he forced himself to turn his head.

Tino took his hand away, smiling. “That awful, huh?” He laughed, beginning to turn around. “I just got those in from Italy. I figured if anyone needed them, it would be you. I'm going to go finish dinner. I'll call you when it's finished.”

Berwald bowed his head in acknowledgment, turning to watch Tino as he walked out of the room. His hair, too, looked soft.

Once the door was shut, he slumped to the floor, his head in his hands and his heart pounding. How did he miss how adorable he was? Was his eyesight really that bad?

Despite his gratefulness for his new found vision, his body felt weightless, and could feel himself plummeting, falling head over heels, and his stomach hurt, and oh God why was this happening to him. He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes not leaving the floor as his head swam. He longed for another glance at Tino's face, to caress it, and to kiss those lips he never thought would look so soft.

He took a deep breath, attempting to quell his racing heart. This was ridiculous, he told himself as he got back onto his feet. He adjusted the new glasses on the bridge of his nose, both cursing and praising them. He returned back to sanding his table, trying to lose himself in the natural motions of his work, and almost managed to, until there came another knock, and Tino was there again, telling Berwald he had dinner ready, and it was in that moment he signed himself off as a dead man.


End file.
